


Drinks of Dubious Origin

by DezeraCain



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Demons, Forced Drug Use, M/M, lyrium of dubious origin, technically non-con, technically possession
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2017-07-27
Packaged: 2018-12-07 13:34:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11624601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DezeraCain/pseuds/DezeraCain
Summary: Don't try anything Dagna gives you. Especially if it's glowing purple and she promises it's fine.





	Drinks of Dubious Origin

“Please Dorian?”

“I am well aware of how your last experiment with lyrium went, Arcanist Dagna. As it is I know far too many ways to spend my time in bed besides waiting for the pretty Fade lights to go away.” Dorian replied, opening a bottle of that delightful new Orlesian stuff the Inquisitor had brought back from the Dales. Granted it was in a dirty bottle and marked “Boot Screech” on it, but he’d never let the name stop him from drinking something.

Dagna stood by looking hopeful, holding a vial of lyrium in one hand. Dorian was already put off it by the strange purple tint of it. Not the right color at all… The fact that Dagna was holding it with that innocent smile wasn’t much lower on the list of reasons he wasn’t going to drink it.

“I tested it and it’s no different than the regular stuff, as far as my tests can tell anyway. It’s not related to red lyrium, at least not as far as I can tell. Look, I’m a dwarf, can you at least trust I’ve got a sense for the stuff?”

She was really laying it on thick.

Dorian was opening his mouth to say no again, when something slammed downstairs. Interested in the gossip, the mage went to look. Solas. Annoyed about… something with Cole and the extremely hairy dwarf. And the Inquisitor had taken time out of making eyes at Iron Bull to mediate whatever the pair were having a spat about.

When he turned back, Dagna was bustling away. Probably going to try Vivienne next and get another refusal. Sitting back in his chair by the window, Dorian settled in with a book and took a sip out of the bottle he’d opened. Funny, it tasted almost like… Lyrium?

He blacked out after the second sip.

Cullen was having a very bad day. It’d started with a raven with the names of soldiers lost. Moral with the living troops was low. And the Inquisitor had insisted on a mission that would lose more by the time they succeeded. And he was craving again.

Feeling that a small break wouldn’t hurt, Cullen insisted unless there was an attack or something was on fire, he wasn’t to be disturbed. And he went to take his first nap since arriving at Skyhold. And about half an hour into his nap, he opened his eyes to the sight of a demon leering over him. A demon with a rather familiar moustache. Damn his nightmares were getting weird.

He took in the sight, deciding after this he’d deny any attraction to any mages. The man over him, demon, abomination, whatever, was the same purple-blue of all desire demons. And wore about the same amount. He was handsome. He had to be, he looked exactly like Dorian. Except for the skin color. And the tail. And the horns. Maker when did horns become attractive? And he was straddling Cullen’s smallclothes covered waist and pinning his wrists down.

And that was when Cullen started to panic. No matter how handsome or desirable, being unable to move was a definite turn off. He opened his mouth to scream, someone had to be near his office to hear him. And the demon shoved that long lovely tail into his mouth. “Bite down and you’ll be tied up and teased until you break.” The demon purred, in just the same tone as Dorian. If not for the obvious fact that demons could look like anyone, Cullen would have thought it was the Altus himself.

“I’ve always wondered what you looked like under that horrible flounce of yours Commander. The Lion of Ferelden has the body to match the title.” The demon purred, slowly ripping his clothes open with talons, actual talons. Cullen felt ill. This was almost as bad as being back in the Circle Tower again…

If he could think straight, he could beat this nightmare, like all the rest.

Except when this nightmare was doing horrifically interesting things to his member through his shorts. Maker’s breath nightmares shouldn’t be so good.

The commander turned his head away and noticed something odd. There was a bottle on his bedside table that had not been there when he’d come up for a nap. A strange thing to be in his dream if it didn’t exist in reality. And the demon on top of him noticed his gaze.

“Did you want a sip, Commander? Fantastic stuff. I assume it was dreadful before Dagna tipped her little potion into it. Now I simply can’t get enough of the stuff. Want a sip?” The demon Dorian picked up the bottle and brought it closer. Cullen could smell the lyrium in it. He started to shake, struggling to get away from that Maker forsaken bottle before his cravings got the better of him.

Before he could get away, Dorian’s tail was out of his mouth and the bottle upended, pouring a mouthful of glowing purple liquid into him as he drew breath to scream.

Cullen choked and swallowed out of reflex. Then everything went dark.

Later that night, having left a rather irritating judgement behind, Lavellan slept rather fitfully, tossing and turning in bed. He didn’t hear his bedroom door open, and didn’t notice there were people in the room until he was tied down. The archer opened his eyes to see two of the most gorgeous demons he’d ever seen. Damn his nightmares were getting strange...


End file.
